


Strange Weather

by dkwilliams



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5039620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/dkwilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Funny what a strong influence weather can have on or lives</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heating Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hot August night, a swimming pool, and UST can generate more than external heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES: A PWP plot bunny attacked me on the way to the swimming pool today, here in the Deep South where the humidity alone will kill you. It looked like it was only a harmless bunny rabbit but I've seen Monty Python's Holy Grail and I know that appearances can be deceiving, so when it demanded that I write this story I didn't argue much. It really doesn't fit in with any series I'm writing, so it's a stand-alone story for now. Oh, and the quote is from "Heat it Up" by 98 degrees. _"Late at night I fantasize that you and I,_ _That you were rockin' my world._ _I can't deny the way I'm feeling_ _Think about you, again and again."_

Walter Skinner was never sure what had awakened him, although in later years he came to have his suspicions about that. To be truthful, he wasn't deeply asleep and any small noise could have awakened him.

There was the noise again, a faint popping against the window. Rain, he thought hopefully, then revised that thought - the overhang of the motel would keep any rain from splattering against the window. Bugs, then, meeting an untimely end.

He lay on the bed for a long moment before giving up sleep as a lost cause. It was simply too hot to sleep. The bone-deep mugginess of an August southern night seeped through the thin walls of the motel, despite the valiant efforts of the less-than-adequate air conditioner. He sat up, switching on the bedside lamp, and padded into the bathroom for a glass of lukewarm water. He debated the wisdom of taking another cold shower, although the reason for the last one had not been an external heat but instead an internal one, a response to the proximity of the object of his deep-seated desires.

A glance at the connecting door and a moment of concentrated stillness told him that that object had either managed to find elusive sleep or had completely turned off the volume on his television. Most likely the latter - insomnia was Mulder's most frequent nightly companion. That thought, unfortunately, stirred others - images of opening the connecting door, seeing the surprise on the face that could be so revealing when its owner trusted you. Crossing the room to that bed and pulling the younger man into his arms, kissing the mouth that had haunted his dreams for so long. Stroking the firm skin and feeling the heat underneath, sinking himself into a tighter heat and hearing the sounds of need under him. Sounds that would soak into his bones and his heart, filling him, easing all the dark and lonely places in both their souls.

Sounds that would go right through the thin walls of the motel room and into Agent Scully's room. Mulder's partner. The only person that Agent Mulder trusted. And loved.

Skinner sighed and glanced over at the table, at the paperwork that lay there with his glasses on top of them. The night was a loss - he might as well finish putting together the details that would wrap up this case. Another feather in the FBI's cap, kudos all around and vindication, once more, for his own stubborn refusal to give up on Agent Fox Mulder. It was the sensible thing to do - wrap everything up in a neat package and get far away from this enervating heat and humidity, back to his own apartment with its coolly efficient air-conditioner. Away from temptation and back to his coolly efficient life.

Another ping against the window and he growled in irritation. He grabbed up his robe, belting it over his pajama bottoms, and opened the door, determined to figure out the source of this irritation.

The night was still and quiet, with a little stirring of a breeze that felt like it might herald one of those cooling thundershowers common to this part of the south. It was enough to make him stop and wait, silent and grateful, for the next puff of cool air to blow over him. It was enough to make him forget why he had come out in the first place.

The patio between the strip of motel rooms and the office was silent and dark, the motel almost empty due to the recent adverse publicity in the area. That would change now that Mulder had solved the case, and much needed tourist dollars would flow into the area. But for now Skinner enjoyed the quiet, broken only by the faint splash of water beyond the hedge surrounding the pool.

Ah, that explained the quiet in the room next to his. Drawn, almost beyond his will, he walked slowly to the gap in the hedge. The pool wasn't lit and neither was the patio area, but Skinner had no problem identifying the swimmer. Even at this distance without his glasses, there was no mistaking the slender figure that sliced through the water with such ease. Across the length of the pool, flip turn, then back. Sure and confident, a slender white needle threading the dark waters effortlessly -

A slender, white needle.

With sudden fury, he stalked down the sidewalk into the pool area.

"Are you absolutely **insane** , Mulder?" he hissed as Mulder reached the side of the pool near him, trying to keep his voice down to avoid additional attention. "We're here on official FBI business, and you're out here swimming in the nude!"

Mulder stood up in the chest-high water and picked up the towel that he had left on the side of the pool, drying his face and then wrapping the towel around his neck. He shrugged. "I forgot to pack my suit."

"You forgot - Agent Mulder, get out of that pool this instant!"

"Yes, sir." Mulder put his hands on the side of the pool, preparing to heave himself out.

"Wait!" Skinner suddenly realized that a very naked Mulder emerging from the pool and standing - naked - on the patio was infinitely worse than a naked Mulder in the pool. He glanced around. "Didn't you bring a robe down here with you?"

Skinner's change in orders had startled Mulder and he had dropped back into the pool, overbalancing. He stood back up, wiping the water off his face with his hand, and held up a thoroughly soaked towel.

"Just this towel, sir." He looked at the towel, ruefully. "It provided a lot better coverage when it was dry."

 Skinner growled. "Sometimes Mulder - " He unbelted his own robe and held it out. "Here. Use this."

Mulder reached for the robe, noticing - not for the first time - the firm build of the half-naked man holding it. Moonlight gleamed off sculpted muscles, so different from his own sleeker build, and highlighted features made softer without the distancing glasses. Mulder knew that Skinner wanted him - he had been cruised too often in his life not to recognize the signs - but he also knew that the older man wasn't going to do anything about it. Not without a push.

So he pushed. Or, rather, he pulled. Skinner, still holding onto the robe, tumbled into the pool and came up sputtering.

"Mulder! What in hell - "

Mulder grinned at him, unrepentant. "You looked like you could use a swim, sir, to cool down." He splashed water at the AD.

"I'll show you cool - " With a growl, Skinner launched himself at the younger man. Mulder easily evaded the other man's grasp, hovering tauntingly out of reach. Skinner struck out again, grasping fingers slipping off seal-slick skin. Mulder laughed, daring the other man to catch him, diving and twisting away as Skinner pursued him until Mulder miscalculated and got a little too close. He felt an iron grip on his arm that pulled him in tight for a head lock, and memories of a similar grip sent a sudden flash of heat along his back. He surrendered, sagging back in his captor's grip.

Skinner suddenly found his arms full of a warm, compliant body and his momentary flush of triumph was replaced by an even hotter flush. Fire flashed through him, desire filling him and making him all too aware of his rapidly filling cock pressed against that firm ass with only a thin, wet layer of cloth between them. With a gasp, he released the other man and stumbled backward.

Mulder turned quickly, a hand catching Skinner's arm before the man could flee. "Walter. Don't go."

Skinner hesitated, feeling the burn of the hand on his arm and the plea in the flat voice. And then his eyes met Mulder's and he knew that he was lost.

"Mulder - " he said, helplessly, pleading for something he couldn't name.

"Hush," Mulder said quietly, and then he was there, a breath away, and there were suddenly no words left to say.

With a groan he pulled Mulder into his arms, kissing him with a desperate intensity that would have surprised him if he hadn't been doing this every night in his dreams for years. And it was even better than the dreams for a real flesh and blood Mulder was kissing him back just as intensely, tongues battling for supremacy in a sea of white-hot need. He broke the kiss, his lips moving down to nip at supple flesh along a collarbone, warm flesh that tasted faintly of chlorine and wholly of Mulder. And the younger man was making those sounds that Skinner had known he would - impossible man, impossible for him to stay quiet. Warm hands were moving over his back, his arms, his sides, pushing down the thin barrier between their skin, grasping his backside to pull him closer. Bare flesh touched, rubbed, and twin groans broke from twin throats.

"Mulder - God - so good - "

"Need you - need this - Walter - "

The sound of his name on those lips - he captured Mulder's mouth again, his own hands grasping and kneading twin mounds of flesh as he thrust rapidly, cock rubbing cock in frantic need. Gasping for breath, he released Mulder's mouth, felt sharp teeth nip at his neck, and he could feel the trembling begin in his own body, in his lover's body. And then it was there and he was coming hard, biting his lip to hold back the roar that wanted to burst out. He could feel Mulder shuddering in his own climax, felt teeth bite down on his skin to still the cry.

Stunned, Skinner let his head drop forward onto Mulder's shoulder. "Mulder," he murmured, trying for gruff authority and somehow achieving only sated confusion. "What the hell was that?"

He felt rather than heard the laughter, felt soft lips and a gentle tongue soothe the stinging bite. "Something we've both wanted for a hell of a long time."

Skinner drew in a deep breath, acknowledging the truth. "Scully?"

"Is my best friend," Mulder said firmly. "And knows how I feel about you - I've been crying on her shoulder for years. I love her, but I'm not **in love** with her. I'm in love with **you** , Walter."

" **Years** , Mulder?" Skinner felt a tightness ease from around his chest. This was crazy, this could cost them both of their jobs, their reputations - their lives if the Consortium found out. And he knew that he wanted it to continue more than he had wanted anything else in his entire life. He turned his head, seeking the mouth near his own, surrendering to the blissful heat again. Whatever the price, he would pay it.

It was the sound of distant thunder that roused them both, brought them back to reality. Skinner released Mulder with a sigh.

"We'd better go in."

Mulder, in the process of wringing out a soaked robe, grinned at him. "Is that an invitation, sir?"

"Mulder," Skinner growled warningly, affectionate exasperation warring with caution.

Mulder grinned and tossed him the robe, wrapping the damp towel around his own hips. "Because I was thinking, **sir** , that you could demonstrate that headlock again, since you do that so well."

A sudden image of Mulder's naked body pressed against him again, Mulder moving under him, Mulder's back against his chest as he thrust into a tight heat made Skinner suddenly glad for the folds of the robe around his body, wet as they were.

"Certainly, Agent Mulder. I would be happy to demonstrate my expertise."

Mulder laughed softly and followed the AD up the path and into his room.

 

* * *

 

In the darkness of the patio near the pool, a small, slender figure smiled and looked up at the sky. The storm was coming in quickly, bringing with it the promise of cooler temperatures for the next day and more restful nights - for some people, anyway. She rose from her chair, stretched, and walked slowly towards her hotel room.

Before reaching her room, she paused and thrust her hand into her pocket, pulling out a handful of pebbles. Smiling to herself, she thought it was lucky that she had been a tomboy growing up, and let them fall through her fingers to rest in the grass.

 

End

 


	2. Heating Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it takes a moment of reflection to decide what are the important things in life. That, and a sudden blizzard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: This is the second chapter in the “Strange Weather” series, following “Heating Up”, but you don’t have to read that story to make sense of this one. Also, Gwen Wallace is definitely not a Mary Sue - I would have listened .

“Sir, I believe that I’ve picked up a tail.”

Walter Skinner stood in the living room of his apartment and frowned in thought. “Where are you, Agent Scully?”

“Just leaving the Federal courthouse, Sir, on my way to the safe house.”

Skinner sighed. Agents Mulder and Scully had been assigned to protect a computer hacker, an old friend of the Gunmen, who had gotten involved in something over her head – namely, the attempt of a large defense contractor to gain access to sensitive Pentagon records in an attempt to undermine their competition. Gwen Wallace, the hacker, had thought she was helping the company uncover evidence of illegal Gulf War activities and had gone underground when she realized the truth - and that the contractor would just as soon shut her up permanently. She had been offered immunity from prosecution for her testimony but, being just as paranoid as her friends, had refused to come in unless Mulder and Scully were assigned to protect her. Mulder had gone ahead to the safe house with the witness while Scully finished up a court appearance as an expert witness on one of their previous cases.

“Head back to the office, Agent Scully. I’ll have a Bureau car standing by to take you back home. Make private arrangements for a rental car tomorrow.”

“Sir, Mulder’s alone – “

“I’ll drive out there now and wait with Mulder until you can join him in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

Skinner hung up the phone and quickly packed an overnight bag. Years of being called upon at a moment’s notice had made him good at this but it also left his mind free to think. And the only thought that kept circling through his mind was that he was going to be stuck in a small house with Mulder for the next twelve hours.

The man Skinner had been having a torrid affair with for the past four months. The man Skinner had told last weekend that he needed time to think, a cooling off period so to speak. The same man who had left their illicit hotel room with a thundering slam of the door behind him.

Skinner sighed, now more certain than ever that the Fates were out to get him.

* * *

Mulder checked the identity of the man outside the safe house and opened the door in surprise. “Sir, I wasn’t expecting to see you out here.”

“Agent Scully believes she picked up a tail and, since we don’t want to take any chances, I told her I’d come out here tonight in her place. She’s going to pick up a rental car tomorrow and join you.”

Skinner set down his bag and shed his coat – the fire blazing in the fireplace made the room warm. Either that, or the scorching look Mulder was giving him. He cleared his throat.

"How's our guest?"

"Quiet." Mulder grinned. "She's tucked up in her room with a computer and wouldn't notice if the world ended."

"A computer? Mulder - "

"It's all right, sir. No phone jacks in her room, and the computer doesn't have a modem or a cellular connection. There's no way for her to tap into the outside world. And you should have heard her screech about that. But then I gave her some new games that the Gunmen just - um - acquired - and she's ecstatic."

Skinner nodded. "Good thinking."

Mulder rocked on his heels, hands in his pockets, and said softly, "So - are we going to kiss and make up, or are we still doing that cooling off thing?"

Skinner sighed. "Mulder - "

Mulder's shoulders slumped. "Right. If you'll follow me, I'll show you your room." Skinner picked up his overnight bag and followed Mulder as he pointed out the layout of the safe house. "Kitchen's back there behind the great room. Bedrooms are along here. Wallace's room here on the end and Scully's - yours - across from it. The bathroom is on the other side of your room, and my room is across the hall from it and next to Wallace."

Skinner approved the arrangement that put the witness on the inside with agents across and beside her. As Mulder headed back towards the main room, Skinner dropped his bag on the bed, noting that Mulder had given him the master bedroom. He had a fleeting vision of Mulder in the queen sized bed with him, then sighed and unpacked his few items, steeling his resolve. It was only one night. Scully would be here tomorrow and he would be heading home. Home to his cold, lonely apartment.

Thoughts of cold drove him to seek out the warmth of the fire. Mulder was standing there in front of the fireplace, staring into it with a brooding look. He turned his head at Skinner's entrance.

"Coffee?"

Skinner nodded. "It's freezing out there."

"It's pretty cold in here, too."

Somehow, Skinner didn't think the younger man was talking about temperature anymore. Mulder disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a mug.

He cleared his throat and tried to think of something innocuous to talk about. "How are you set for emergencies? I think I heard something about a storm front coming through in a few days."

"We have our own generator, a cord of wood on the back porch, and enough groceries for a month," Mulder said flatly. "We'll be fine. Are you hungry, sir?"

It was the flatness in the voice that did Skinner in, the unemotional tone that meant that Mulder was fighting deep feelings. His conscience smote him and he knew that his voice was shaking as he said, "Mulder - "

Mulder went into the kitchen area. "We have steaks, pasta sauce, an assortment of pre-cooked meals - " Mulder looked through the cabinets, slamming the doors as he closed them.

"Mulder - "

"Vegetables. Eggs. I make a mean Western omelet. Damn it, Walter!" he swore, swinging around. "If you don't want to fuck around anymore, just say so. I'm a big boy. I can handle rejection."

"It was _never_ about fucking around, Mulder," Skinner growled.

"Then what _was_ it about?"

Skinner paused and ran his hand over his face. "I don't know," he said finally. "I only know that I can't do this anymore. Meeting you in seedy motels, sneaking around so the Bureau won't find out. Catching a night here, a weekend there. Not even being able to go out to a simple dinner together, for Christ's sake! I can't do it, Mulder."

"So you just want to chuck it all? Act like the last four months never happened? Forget everything we did together?"

Pictures flashed through his brain: a dark swimming pool on a hot August night holding the vital warmth of his new lover in his arms. A small, dingy hotel room where Mulder lay spread before him like a feast for the senses, his hand extended to pull Skinner closer. Another hotel room and a hot body under him, thrusting up to meet his own thrusts, the face streaked with sweat and alive with passion. A laughing man tackling him and kissing him senseless before ripping his mind out of his body.

"No," he said quietly. "I could never do forget. These past four months have been incredible."

"Well, thanks for that, I suppose," Mulder said mockingly. "I think I'm going to turn in for awhile, _sir_. It's been a long day. Make yourself at home."

Skinner nodded silently, wanting to say something but utterly at a loss for words. He watched Mulder walk down the hallway and the stiffness in his back told him that the younger man wasn't going to forgive him anytime soon. And right now, he didn't blame Mulder in the least.

* * *

Several hours later, after prowling around the cabin in search of something to take his mind off his problems, Skinner found himself wishing that something _would_ happen. Anything. He would have even welcomed a knock-down, drag-out fight with Mulder.

The sound of a door opening down the hallway brought him out of his chair, only to slump in disappointment when he saw the slight figure in a frayed bathrobe padding into the kitchen. He sighed and thought that it would at least be polite to introduce himself to their "guest".

"Ms. Wallace?" A tousled head withdrew itself from the fridge, looking at him with vague curiosity from behind round glasses. "I'm Assistant Director Walter Skinner."

Gwen Wallace extracted a soda and closed the door, turning to study him. "I've heard Melvin talk about you." She opened the can and took a swallow. "So what brings the boss man in on this job?" She stiffened, her eyes widening a little. "There isn't a problem, is there?"

"No, nothing like that," Skinner said reassuringly. "Agent Scully got tied up in town, and Bureau policy requires two agents at a safe house. She'll be here in the morning and I'll be returning to town." Gwen nodded and he said, "In the meantime, is there anything I can do for you? Are you hungry?"

"You can cook?" Gwen asked in surprise.

Skinner shook his head, ruefully. "I can reheat and defrost but that's the sum of my kitchen skills. Mulder's actually the better cook." The memory of just when Mulder had demonstrated his skills - a friend's condo borrowed for a weekend - and that Mulder had cooked that meal wearing nothing but an apron and a smile brought a sudden flush to his cheeks. To hide his reaction, he hastily turned to the cabinets and began to look in them, unconsciously mimicking Mulder's earlier actions.

"Thanks, but I'm not really hungry," Gwen said, sitting in one of the chairs at the dining table with her soda. "Just taking a break from the game. Are you into computer games, Mr. Skinner?" she asked with a hopeful tone to her voice.

He shook his head. "Afraid not. Mulder probably is, though. He should be up in a couple hours." As he spoke, he thought that it was odd that Mulder wasn't already awake. He remembered how the younger man had told him about his insomnia and confessed that the only times he really slept through the night were when he slept in Skinner's arms. His heart felt heavy as he realized that Mulder was probably awake but staying in his room to avoid Skinner. And he could hardly blame the younger man - after all, the cooling off had been Skinner's idea.

"That's okay." Gwen's voice broke into his reverie, and she got up to head back to her room. "Wow, it's really coming down out there."

Skinner joined her at the window, looking out at a blinding curtain of white, and realized that it was early morning. "I thought the storm wasn't due for a couple days."

Gwen looked at Skinner in disbelief. "What planet have _you_ been on? They've been talking about this storm system on the news for the last two days and all the grocery stores look like they've been looted."

Skinner flushed. Since the fight with Mulder the previous weekend, he hadn't paid much attention to anything but just making it through another day. Although, now that he came to think about it, there had been that email about bad weather procedures that he had deleted.

The lights flickered and they exchanged a look. "I'd better go crank up the generator," Skinner said. "Would you wake up Agent Mulder and tell him where I'm going?"

Gwen nodded and Skinner headed to the front hallway, pulling his coat back on before slipping on the heavy boots he had left there. He deactivated the security system and pulled on his gloves, then opened the door and stepped outside.

He stood on the porch for a few minutes, adjusting to the cold and getting his bearings. The generator was in a little bump-out shed on the side of the house and he slowly made his way around the side of the building, keeping one hand on the wall so that he wouldn't wander off into the blinding snow by accident. The door was locked to prevent tampering and he quickly unlocked it and stepped inside out of the swirling snow, flicking on the lights.

The generator had already been fueled and it took only a few minutes to get it started and switch the house over to its power instead of the rural power lines. He stayed for a little bit longer, making sure that everything was running well, then stepped back outside. After securing the shed again, he pocketed the keys and started making his way back to the house. Vaguely, he was aware that the blizzard seemed to have stopped for the moment but the depth of the snow under his boots made him realize that it must have been snowing for hours before he noticed it.

Rounding the corner of the house toward the porch, he looked up from his feet and came to a complete halt. There, stretching out for what seemed like a mile between him and the tree line surrounding the property was a sheet of pure white. It covered everything - ground, bushes, his car, the road - in a blanket of shimmering purity, and the sight of it was so dazzling that he found himself holding his breath.

Skinner blinked his eyes and suddenly he was a boy of ten, looking out of his bedroom window and whooping in joy at the sight of snow and the thought of a school snow day. He was a young man, weary of heat and death, sitting in the shelter of his mother's arms as they looked over the snow-covered fields, the purity of this winter world healing both body and soul. He was a serious graduate student, looking into a pair of smiling eyes as she murmured the name "Sharon" and shook his hand before they were pelted with snowballs by their friends and laughingly joined in the fight. He was standing in his office, a newly appointed assistant director, looking out his window and seeing a dark-haired man walking along the snow-covered walkway, his hair glistening with snowflakes and his face alight with purpose. And then he was a boy again, defending his snow fort against all comers and teasing his sister as she coaxed him into making snow angels in the snow.

"Walter, what in hell are you doing?"

Skinner looked up to see Mulder standing on the porch, arms crossed, staring down at him, and realized that he way lying on his back in the snow, fanning his arms and legs. Feeling a little foolish, he carefully stood up and looked around at the imprint left in the snow.

"Um – making a snow angel."

"Making a – " Mulder stopped, at a loss for words, and simply stared at him.

Skinner carefully stepped out of the angel's outline and turned to look out over the snow-covered field. "Mulder, did you ever have a moment when you could see your entire life, all the moments stretching out like a series of pictures? I just did, and I realized that what I thought mattered doesn’t mean a damn thing and the one thing I never thought to have is the one thing I can't live without."

Mulder came down from the porch, looking at him in concern. "You're rambling, Walter, and you never ramble. Are you okay? How long have you been out here?"

"I'm okay – I'm more than okay. That is, if you can forgive an old fool like me."

Mulder's jaw dropped. "Walter?"

Skinner touched Mulder's face gently with a chilled hand. "It was about love."

"What was?" Mulder asked, bewildered.

"I said that this wasn't about fucking around, and you asked what it was about. It's about love." His hand continued to stroke Mulder's cheek, finding it rough and in need of a shave. "The first time I touched you. The way you looked at me in the pool that night, the moonlight in your eyes. I was lost in that moment."

"Then why - "

Skinner smiled wryly. "I don't have the best track record when it comes to relationships." He lifted one of Mulder's hands and kissed the back of it. "I'm in love with you, Mulder, and I'm scared half to death."

"What are you scared of?" Mulder asked softly.

"Getting hurt. Someone finding out - our careers ruined. You."

"Me? Why are you scared of me?"

Skinner drew a deep breath. "You ask a lot of those around you, especially those you love and who love you. You demand perfect trust - both that they trust you and that you can trust them. That magnifying glass you hold up can be damned uncompromising, Mulder, and none of us can quite measure up to what you ask from us. You risk your life without thought, taking on monsters like Don Quixote battling at windmills, not caring if you get hurt on this quest of yours. But we care, and we can't help hurting for you."

Mulder's eyes met Skinner's, and they were dark and sober. "You can't ask me to stop fighting. I love you, Walter, but I have to do what I think is right, no matter the cost."

"I know," Skinner said with a sigh. "But - " He paused. "Did you just say that you love me?"

Mulder grinned. "A little slow on the uptake today, sir?"

"Don't call me 'sir'," Skinner growled, pulling Mulder roughly into his arms and kissing him thoroughly until he felt the man shaking. Concerned, he released Mulder only to find that the younger man was laughing. "Mulder?"

"Idiot," Mulder said affectionately. "Of all the times and places to pick to tell me that you love me."

"Then I suppose that this is an even worse time and place to propose."

Mulder's jaw dropped. "What?"

"I'm asking you to marry me, Mulder. That is, if you can stand the idea of spending the rest of your life with me."

Mulder grinned suddenly and pulled back, fluttering his eyelashes teasingly as he drawled, "I don't know what to say, Mr. Skinner. I do declare you've taken my breath away."

"Say yes – or I'll wash your face with snow."

"You'll have to catch me first!"

Mulder pulled away and ran with Skinner in pursuit. The snow was deep, making running difficult for a man in sneakers, and Skinner soon tackled his quarry. Mulder laughed and sputtered as Skinner carried out his threat.

"Spousal abuse! Watch it, mister – I'm a Federal agent and I think this qualifies as assault with intent."

Skinner grinned down at the man pinned beneath him. "Definitely. And I _intend_ to have my way with you – and in every possible way." He kissed Mulder thoroughly and felt the laughter turn to passion as Mulder kissed him back.

It wasn't returning sanity but the shiver of his lover that roused Skinner and made him stand, pulling Mulder up with him.

"Come on – let's go inside and get you warmed up."

Mulder grinned and let Skinner lead him towards the house. "And I know a great way to do that."

Skinner closed the door behind him and reset the alarms, then shed his coat. "Really?"

"Really." Mulder had already shed his coat and pulled off his soaked sneakers. "Oh, and Walter?"

"Hmm?"

"The answer is yes."

* * *

Skinner woke from a blissfully sated sleep to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He groaned and rolled over onto his side to reach it, ignoring the sleepy protest from the man sprawled on top of him.

"Skinner."

"Sir, it's Agent Scully."

Skinner sighed and laid back down, phone to his ear. He had forgotten that Mulder's partner was due to join him today. "Good morning. Any problems today?"

Mulder snuggled closer, partially awakened by Skinner's voice, and murmured, "Who izzit?"

Skinner shushed him with a finger over his lover's lips, trying to ignore it when Mulder proceeded to suck and nip that finger.

"Actually, sir, there's a big problem. The storm last night dumped a foot of snow over the entire area. Most of the interstates are closed and they don't expect the rural roads to be cleared for several days."

Skinner couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "Several days?"

"Yes, sir. We would request priority clearing of the roads in your area, but that might alert certain parties to our witness' location."

"No, we can't do that."

"I'm sorry, sir. I could see about renting a four-wheel drive – "

"Don't worry about it, Agent. We've got the generator and supplies, so I'm sure that we'll be fine till they can get the roads cleared. And I've got plenty of work to keep me occupied. You just stay home and take it easy – you've earned a little time off."

He could hear the smile in her voice. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Oh – and sir?"

"Yes, Agent Scully?"

"Say hello and congratulations to Mulder for me."

The phone disconnected and he stared at it in stunned surprise for a moment. Memories of a hot August night and pebbles mysteriously striking his window floated to the surface of his mind, and he idly wondered how good Scully's throwing arm was. He smiled and set the phone on the nightstand.

He turned on his side to face his sleepy lover and felt a finger tracing the smile on his face. "Why do I get the feeling that this smile isn't just because you're looking at me?" Mulder asked.

"That was Scully. She says it looks like we'll be snowed in here for several days."

"Several days, huh?" Mulder grinned widely. "Whatever will we do with our time?"

"Well, I don’t know about you, Agent Mulder, but I have a lot of work to do."

"Work!" Mulder said indignantly, glaring at Skinner.

"Yes." Skinner leaned over to nip at a particularly sensitive area on his lover's neck and heard a low moan. "I intend to investigate every single inch of your body and learn just where all your sensitive spots are located. Then I intend to use that knowledge to drive you out of your mind and reduce you to an incoherent and sated puddle of flesh."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Mulder said breathlessly, closing his eyes and arching into the touch on his skin.

"Glad you approve. So does your partner, by the way."

Mulder chuckled. "She probably had it figured out before we did. The woman is definitely an X-File. And we had better invite her to the wedding or she'll kill us. Maybe she could be my maid-of-honor. Or best man."

"Mulder, shut up and kiss me."

* * *

Gwen Wallace sighed and picked up her headphones, plugging them into the port on her laptop and settling them over her ears to cover the noise coming from the room across the hall again. This game was difficult enough without having her concentration disrupted by sudden moans and screams, and she had her reputation to protect. If she hadn't beaten this game by the time she got out of here, Langley would never let her hear the end of it and she would lose a hefty bet. Of course, the money she was going to make off Melvin Frohike would more than cover it – she had known the minute she met Mulder and his partner that they weren't involved, no matter what Frohike thought. She cranked up the volume on her laptop and settled down to tackle the next level boss.

 

* * *

Scully settled down on her couch with a cup of hot chocolate and a plate of muffins, curling her feet under her with a contented sigh. A few days of downtime, a kitchen full of comfort-food, and a stack of newly released videos – heaven! Much better than being stuck in that safe house for days with a miserable, moping Mulder. Pressing the Play button on her remote, she snuggled in to enjoy the movie and plot her next step. A nice honeymoon, perhaps. She grinned. The two men would never know what hit them.

End


End file.
